


A Touch Unlike Any Other

by mellovesall



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Historical Romance, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, olicity - Freeform, olicity au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-11 05:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10456788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellovesall/pseuds/mellovesall
Summary: A Olicity Historical Romance AU:  Touch can be so much more than just, physical.





	1. Chapter 1

London, Spring of 1816

 

Oliver Queen, the Earl of Archer, concentrated on taking his next breath as he attempted to keep the piercing noises of the jubilant ballroom suppressed to a tolerable irritation. Draw air in, as if inhaling the pleasing scent of a blooming flower. Ease out, to attempt to relax. Draw in. Ease out. Draw in. Ease out. He repeated his personal mantra over and over in his mind. If he could keep his concentration he just might make it through the night without embarrassing himself and his family.

“Oliver?” His mother’s soft inquiry of concern, and the instant withdrawal of her hovering fingers from where they had deceptively appeared to rest upon his sleeve, pulled Oliver’s attention towards blue eyes that were so much like his own. Love and an unspoken understanding of what he was experiencing shown through them and gave him the strength and fortitude to reach for her hand. He ignored the discomfort and pain, of touching and being touched by someone, and placed her fingers upon his arm and escorted her further into the crowd.

He heard a gasp of surprise then a sigh of gratefulness escape his mother’s lips at his rare touch and his pain intensified. He hated his weakness and the hurt it caused those he loved.

They both stood out amongst the colorful ‘peacocks’ of the ton, not just because of Oliver’s severe yet, classic black evening wear with white downy cravat and his mother’s elegant cream satin gown. But because the Earl of Archer had not been seen since his return from the war.

Whispers of why, surrounded him even as the crowd thankfully parted and he spotted a man, whom he owed a tremendous debt, across the room. As he made his way towards the similarly conservatively dressed peer, William Smoak, the son of the Viscount of Somerset who had rescued Oliver from the clutches of the enemy, snippets of gossip accosted his ears.

_“I don’t see any wounds,”_

_“We had heard he was disfigured,”_

_“Not like he once was,”_

Oliver swallowed the bile that rose in his throat as the last words cut him as painfully as a sword. And he knew exactly what damage a sword, both razor sharp and duller, as to prolong suffering, could wield. His own screams were a testament to that knowledge.

Draw in. Ease out.

Memories of brave friends lost and the worst side of humanity assailed Oliver. These silly entitled people laughing and enjoying the evening, who drank and ate to excess, would never truly understand that...wounds were not just physical. They could not see the appalling lines of scars that ran along his body nor the crippling psychological walls that kept him from the simplest of human comfort...touch.

No, Oliver would never be like he once was. That carefree bachelor without a care in the world was long gone. Now stood a man, trying to claw his way back from the bloody battlefields of a foreign country.

~~~~~~~

Lady Felicity Smoak, the youngest of two siblings, watched her older brother turn at the arrival of a tall and stunningly, handsome man who was accompanied by an equally tall older woman, whom Felicity assumed was his mother or aunt, as the familial resemblance was undeniable.

Felicity’s eyes were drawn to the stranger’s luxurious dark, cropped hair, chiseled jaw and innate virility, but they lingered when she instinctively felt his aloneness. He was beautiful, yet...there was something about him.

As a woman, who felt she was not a Helen of Troy, who enjoyed getting lost in a book rather than learn to flirt or be coy; who had yet to experience the romance that filled the pages of many of her favorite novels and who watched life unfold from behind uncommon glass spectacles...she understood.

She had never felt such an acute surety. His profound loneliness was an intimate realization and when his intense gaze unexpectedly swept towards her, as if he had felt the connection too, she flushed with awareness. A flash of interest and curiosity swirled in the pretty depths of his ocean blue eyes before he broke the brief link to look at William. She felt oddly bereft at the loss of his regard.

“Archer, it is a pleasure to see you,” Felicity’s heart stopped then raced at the name of the man her brother greeted with genuine respect.

She could now place a face to the man her brother had mentioned only once when deep in his cups of wine. Her brother had come home nine months earlier, after three years away, to find his younger sister a mature woman of the age of nineteen. Felicity had never seen her brother drunk except for that one night. It had been after a fortnight of quietly watching him struggle to adjust to the myriad of difficulties, nightmares and guilt that came from being home again when she found him in the library during a late night storm. As rain and lightening pounded the earth her brother had shared the incredible story of his last mission.

His battalion had been dispatched to locate and rescue the leader of a small unit of five men who had been sent on a dangerous mission to gather intel from a French occupied town. Four men of that covert unit had made their way back to the British line with a tale of torture and imprisonment at the hands of a sadistic enemy. Their Captain had taken the brunt of the torture and with his last reserves attacked and distracted their captors so his men could escape.

When William’s battalion arrived at the isolated farm, where the man was last seen, they found his battered body that had been left for dead. Miraculously he lived. Barely a pulse under the gruesome bruises, cuts and welts that covered his skin, but still alive. William’s voice had been so full of heartache, disbelief and admiration, for the broken man he had found and brought back to safety, that it had brought Felicity to tears. That broken man, was the Earl of Archer.

“You as well, Somerset. My congratulations and best wishes on your recent marriage. May I introduce my mother, Countess of Archer. ” Felicity was brought back to the present as the Earl of Archer’s dark, rich baritone stroked across her already sensitive skin. His voice was as alluring as its owner.

“Thank you. We are beyond happy. May I introduce my wife, the Viscountess Lady Smoak,” Felicity’s sister-in-law Katherine and second favorite person in the world after William, curtsied, then William turned to Felicity. “And my sister, Lady Felicity Smoak.”

Felicity curtsied, the effervescent emerald green of her gown shimmered in the candlelight, and as she stood up she met the kind smile of the Countess and the enigmatic look of the Earl of Archer. She could no longer read him. He had put them all at arms length.

“Perchance we could meet for a ride one day soon, Archer,” William offered as the orchestra begun to play the opening notes to the next dance.

“Oh, what a wonderful idea William. Perhaps the Earl and the Countess would like to join us at Somerset for a day of riding and visiting?” Katherine chimed in, with her usual delightfully sunny disposition. Felicity had yet to meet anyone who could tell Katherine no.

“I am sorry, I..”

“We would love to,” the Countess gently interrupted her son and after a moment of silence the Earl tipped his head in acceptance.

“My mother and I would be honored,”


	2. Chapter 2

Felicity glanced down at her dance card and the empty, untouched, pristine parchment did not upset her. She did, however, release an impatient sigh as the closest ballroom door beckoned her to walk under its garishly embellished frame and away from the crush of the crowd.

This was her second season in London and it was only enjoyable this time because her beloved brother William was home. The year before, with the constant worry for him, she had not wished to make her debut, but her parents felt it would allow her some experience with the foreign ‘dance’ of courtship. They were right in that respect.

She now knew that women were only expected to be titillated about the weather and their needlepoint projects. And not, definitely not, about literature and a riveting new novel like, Grimm’s Fairy Tales. Looks of disbelief and uncomfortableness, from the first few bachelors who had ventured to converse with her, made it abundantly clear that talk of magic mirrors and poisonous apples was...uncouth. The restraints of society and its small mindedness irritated her.

The unbidden image of eyes the color of her beloved ocean soothed her just like the waves, that unfailingly came ashore, near her seaside home always did. Meeting the Earl of Archer had been...remarkable.

Did others know what a brave man he was? That he had been willing to sacrifice his life so his men could have the chance to live? No, she thought not. Just as people only saw her as a pampered woman from a titled family they only saw Archer as a man from one as well. She felt privileged to know more. Her body warmed as she thought of him. He probably had not given her a second thought since their brief encounter earlier in the evening, but the thought of being able to see him again, during his upcoming visit to Somerset, was even more exciting than any of Grimm’s fairy tales.

The turquoise color of Katherine’s gown swept by as William turned her in a sweeping turn of the waltz. Felicity smiled as she watched such pure happiness on her brother and sister-in-law’s faces. Katherine and her family were neighbors and she was a childhood friend whose love and patience had brought William back to life after his return from the war.

Felicity’s heart swelled with joy for them as well as hope to one day find a partner who would accept and love her no matter her oddities and imperfections. William still struggled with the darkness that had touched him, but Katherine was the warm sunlight that kept the harshest of shadows away.

More colorfully dressed couples joined William and Katherine on the dance floor and the room swelled with even more heated bodies. Felicity stood alone on the edge of the room. Her gloved thumb sliding absentmindedly along the corner of her unfilled dance card as she looked at the ballroom exit longingly.

~~~~~

Felicity hesitated in the secluded hallway and after seeing no one, she slowly opened the door and stepped in. She had slipped away for a bit of an adventure and she would have to be very, very careful. Empty rooms at evening events were not always empty. She had heard of secret rendezvous and dalliances among those who were married and those who were not and if she were found to be in the company of any man, well, the scandal would be horrific.

But, how could she pass up this opportunity? It was rumored that the host of tonight’s ball had a library that rivaled the Prince Regent’s. What greeted her as she walked deeper into the room was more than she had hoped for.

The only source of light was a swath of moonlight spilling through two large french doors while the rest of the windows were hidden behind thick velvet curtains. Hundreds of gilded book spines glittered under the moon’s touch and she was held spellbound. She took off her gloves as she eagerly reached for one of them.

“Are you in here?” whispered a man who entered through a door at the opposite end of the room. Fear gripped Felicity and before the stranger noticed her presence she ducked behind the heavy curtain closest to her and found...she was not the only one hiding.

The Earl of Archer was seated behind the curtain, on a moonlit bathed window seat, with his eyes closed. His countenance was still breathtakingly beautiful, but Felicity could immediately sense something was wrong. Especially when a low moan of distress escaped his lips.

A stranger on the other side of the curtain and the Earl of Archer inches from her...Felicity had definitely found her adventure. If she were caught….

~~~~~

Draw in, as if inhaling the scent of a blooming flower. Ease out, to relax. Oliver’s hands trembled as he sat in a private corner of the manor’s library. He gripped his knees in an attempt to stop the slight tremors that traversed his body. He squeezed his closed eyes tighter as the pounding of his heartbeat drowned out everything else.

Draw in. Eas...the delicate fragrance of honeysuckle filled his lungs. He really must be going crazy to now be smelling actual flowers, Oliver thought bitterly.

He thought he had conquered the bouts of anxiety that were a result of his war time trauma, but it would seem he was still weak. He was disgusted in himself. What would people think if they could see him now?

Draw in. Ease out.

The fogginess of mind that came with each episode, which dampened his awareness, was a malaise that scared him the most. He struggled to keep his thoughts in order.

“Shhh, it is all right,” a warm hushed feminine whisper, only just barely penetrated his stupor. He tried to surface. To follow its warmth.

“Oh, please don’t make a sound,” there it was again. Oliver’s mind followed it. He could not understand the words, but the voice...it was safe. And then his face was cradled within hands that were petal smooth and then a firm softness pressed against his mouth. Excited puffs of air brushed against his cheek as the sweet pressure melted against his lips and Oliver, the Earl of Archer, opened his eyes to the sight of a familiar pair of glass spectacles, that framed the loveliest blue eyes he had ever seen.  Lady Felicity Smoak.

He watched mesmerized as surprise and then pleasure turned the blue almost indigo. Her lips slowly lifted from his, their breaths mingling, and he had never felt anything so sensual.

Their brief introduction at the beginning of the evening and the impact of...her, had been powerful. It had felt as if she had known him. As if the haunting wraiths and specters that had followed him home, all that he kept from the world, were ones she could understood and accept.

The touch of her thumb against his lips stopped his questions from spilling forth. She tipped her head towards the closed curtain and that is when he heard them.

_“Peter my love, I don’t know why I agreed to meet you in the library. The smell of old dusty books just doesn’t make me happy.”_

_“Darling, just ignore it,” the rustling of silk and taffeta could be heard as Peter tried to coax his darling to stay._

_“I simply cannot abide this room,” the sound of her pout could be heard across the room and Oliver had a bit of sympathy for Peter._

_“Anything for you, my love. Let us find one you will adore.”_

~~~~~~~

The heavy door clicked shut as the couple left the library.

Oliver could not look away from the beauty who was leaning on his chest, her thumb brushing over his lower lip, and her gorgeous emerald green gown spread out across the cushion they shared. He had always been partial to that shade of green and its pairing with the dark blonde curls of her upswept hair enchanted him.

“My apologies my Lord. I had to stop you from making any noise and all I could think of was what the hero of one of my favorite books did to distract the woman he loved. He kissed her. And how could Peter’s darling not like the scent of books and a library? It is amazing and it is one of my favorite smells in the whole world and…” her face blushed an adorable shade of pink as her rambling caused Oliver’s lips to spread into a huge smile under her fingertips.

Her eyes were drawn to his lips and that’s when she must have realized she still held his face. Her hands lifted immediately from his skin and she quickly pulled away from his chest and sat straight as a rod next to him. He missed the weight and warmth of her. That...surprised him.

“Did it work?” he asked in wonderment. What was he doing? He was playing with fire.

Her head lifted from where she had been concentrating very hard on a loose piece of thread on her gown. “Did what work?”

“Did your hero distract the woman he loved?” Oliver asked softly. He was undoubtedly and definitely playing with fire. And he found he did not wish to stop...not yet. The air around them crackled with budding awareness. He had not felt anything except pain and guilt for a very long time, so this...whatever this was, it was wonderful.

After what felt like an eternity, she whispered, “Yes,”

He briefly closed his eyes as he savored the simple pleasure of being a man connecting with a woman. He soaked in her beauty for just a moment longer before the responsibilities of the world came to him once again. She was radiant and...he did not wish to be the reason to extinguish it. She deserved better.

“Thank you, for saving us from being found. I shall stay here so we will not be seen leaving together.”

He knew he had disappointed her and perhaps even hurt her, but it was safer this way. Safer for both of them that they remained acquaintances. She needed to leave.

“Good evening,” she said, with a small smile before she left their private sanctuary and walked out of the room.

As honeysuckle lingered in the air, Oliver lifted his hand to his lips that still tingled and that is when it hit him. She had touched him, multiple times, and he hadn’t hurt. There had not been any discomfort or pain.

That had only come when he had sent her away.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I’m sorry for the delay in getting this chapter posted. Thank you for being so patient with me. I hope you enjoy it. Also, one of my lovely readers correctly pointed out that Felicity should be addressed as Lady and not Miss., my apologies for not catching that. I’m usually much better at details...I have corrected all previous chapters. xo

~~~~~~~

Felicity’s body hummed with low key adrenaline as she lay in her sky blue silk draped canopy bed. Thank goodness William had brought her straight to their London townhouse after she had pled a migraine. The house was quiet and still, in the early morning hour, unlike her mind.

She had kissed the Earl of Archer.

What had she done? How could she face him in a week’s time at Somerset? Her face flamed with embarrassment and something more...as all the details of their library encounter, every breath, word and touch caused her heart to race and goosebumps to spread across her arms.

Every breath, word and touch.

With her finger she traced her lower lip and swore she could still feel the contours of his. Masculine softness that had tasted of wine and the forbidden.

Was this why people risked everything to rendezvous in dark rooms? She thought of the chiseled moonlit angles of his face, the hardness of his chest against her own and the look of wonderment in his eyes...yes, this was why they risked everything she thought.

~~~~~~

One week later, Somerset.

Oliver pulled on the reins of his horse as the stunning vista of Viscount Smoak’s family home, Somerset, came into view. The carriage carrying Oliver’s mother also eased to a trot as the rugged landscape greeted them. To the left, were rolling hills that sloped down toward the ocean and miles of ivory sand and beaches. To the right, rose the white stone facade of the manor house covered in untamed ivy of autumn reds and jade green leaves. A peacefulness settled over Oliver as he took in all the wild beauty. He could picture Lady Felicity walking the grounds with her nose buried in books of adventure and mystery.

Oliver shook his head and his lips tilted into a reluctant smile of bewilderment as the thought of Lady Felicity once again invaded his thoughts. She had been doing that ever since that night in the library. He thought he had sufficiently suppressed her as he braced for the difficult days of socializing and visiting ahead, but just as the woman herself; her spirit had captured his interest.

After his return from the war and all the months of seclusion from society and painstaking rebuilding of his wounded soul and tattered body; Oliver had still not been prepared to return to the living. The horrific memories still came out of the blue and his discomfort at physical contact had deepened his depression and disheartenment. The quiet pace of his home and the loving support of his mother were a refuge he had grown dependent upon and meeting Lady Felicity had...turned it upside down.

Her touch had not hurt him. Was it possible that he was not completely broken or beyond repair? Could he learn to live again?

He did not know, but a beguiling young woman had given him...a sliver of hope. And it terrified him. What if it had just been a fluke of the moment? To have hope squashed and vanquished would be a tragedy he would not come back from.

~~~~~~~

Felicity grew more nervous as soft booted footfalls entered the foyer of her home and came closer and closer to the family room. She steeled herself for whatever the Earl of Archer would do. Would he be aloof? Had she embarrassed him beyond friendship?

And heaven forbid he thought she had followed him to the library to compromise or force his hand in marriage. She cringed at the thought of him thinking the worst of her.

Felicity’s disappointing first season, amongst the gentlemen of the ton, had provided a valuable insight into expectations. She no longer had any and she was at peace with who she was. A courtship between her and the Earl had not entered her mind, but a cordial friendship was something Felicity hoped for. What she knew of his distinguished military service and the lengths he would go to protect his men and his country was to be valued.

And he had not told on her. His discretion about what they had done in the moonlight was so appreciated and the way he had acted towards her...unbelievably, he had asked her what happened to the hero of the book! No man, other than her wonderful brother, had ever cared to talk with her about the books and stories that excited her. His reaction to her presence, her babbling and...her kiss, was so unexpected and...fascinating.

Oliver walked into the room with his mother, the Countess, at his side. His tailored riding jacket showed off his tall length and broad shoulders to perfection as William and Katherine welcomed them. His skin was lightly tanned from his time outdoors and his thick, luxurious hair was windswept. The short cropped strands lay at an angle that beckoned Felicity’s fingers to run through them.

The fact that he bowed to her brother instead of shaking William’s offered hand and the fact that he had not escorted his mother on his arm was not highly unusual, but it was different. And it was all forgotten as Oliver turned and spoke to her.

“Lady Felicity, a pleasure. Your home is beautiful,”

“Thank you, my lord. I look forward to showing it to you and your mother,” Felicity replied as the kindness in Oliver’s gaze eased her worries. He wasn’t angry with her and the day all at once became brighter. Felicity turned to curtsy before the Countess.

“Please child, no need for such formalities here. It’s lovely to see you again, Lady Felicity,”

“And you, Countess.” Felicity replied as Katherine signaled to their butler, George, that they would be taking their guests to their rooms.

“Dinner will be held in two hours. Countess, may I show you to your room to rest and freshen up and Felicity, would you be kind enough to see the Earl to his?”

Felicity was caught off guard by Katherine’s request, quickly looking into the twinkling and knowing eyes of her sister-in-law, before she replied, “I would be delighted. We have you and your mother staying in the North wing. The view of the ocean from there is exceptional.”

As William escorted Katherine and the Countess towards the staircase, Felicity hesitated. She waited for Oliver to offer his arm, but at the tightening of his entire body she knew something was wrong. She then remembered his peculiarly different behavior from earlier and with that insight she gently smiled up at him and said, “If you will just follow me, my Lord,”

Relief and then pain flashed in his eyes. Felicity would have thought she had imagined it if not for the easing of the tension from his limbs. He did not wish to touch anyone. Why?

“No, I can do this. Please,” came the whispered request as Oliver held his arm out for her to take. Felicity was not sure what to do, but his look of determination and...vulnerability had her placing her hand lightly on his jacket sleeve. She felt a slight tremor under her fingertips before he stepped forward.

They did not speak as she led him up the stone staircase and down the gallery towards the North wing.

~~~~~~~~

His admiration for Lady Felicity grew exponentially at her graceful tact and compassion. He had not meant for her to see any of his discomfort, but she had been kind, once again, and had not asked questions. He knew she sensed something was not right with him. After seeing him at a dreadfully low point in the library and moments ago, his hesitation...she knew. But, she did not seem to care…

Oliver marveled at the pain free weight of her hand on his arm as they walked to his room. Why was there no pain when she touched him? Why was she so different? Her touch brought comfort to him after so long without. It was the welcome home his fractured soldier’s heart had wished for so many months before.

Even as he understood the need to distance himself emotionally, he craved more tactile sensation...like a man who had lived without sight and awoke to see an amazing sunrise.

Would it hurt to touch her? He had to pull back the urge to find out. He had to center himself.

“Emma, thank you,” Lady Felicity said as she released his arm and addressed the maid who was unpacking his trunks. The loss of her touch was keenly felt.

“My Lady,” the maid curtsied to them both and placed the last of Oliver’s belongings into the tall wardrobe before discreetly standing out in the hallway to the entrance of the room.

The suite had large windows that allowed the ocean and the spring day sunshine indoors. Its mint green wallpaper, elegantly carved wooden furniture and silver threaded bedding pleased him as he walked by the adjoining dressing room door and heard a low growl.

Both he and Felicity looked at each in surprise before Felicity rushed into the smaller room and gasped, “Oh Hanna, sweetheart, there you are,”

“Hanna?” Oliver asked, as he followed close behind and spotted, over Felicity’s shoulder, a tiny and very pregnant brown dachshund curled up in the shadowed corner of the dressing room floor.

Felicity bent down to stroke the dog’s back as she whispered to Oliver, “I’ve been looking for her everywhere. Hanna had been my mother’s and I am a bit worried about her. As you can tell she is heavily pregnant and I think she may be preparing to nest. I am so sorry, I shall move her,”

Oliver slowly kneeled down next to Felicity so as not to scare the mother to be, “No, it is all right. Leave her be. After all, this is her home not mine,”

“Truly?”

“Truly. We can keep her nesting spot a secret and she shall have her privacy,” Oliver whispered back to Felicity as he grew conscious of the intimacy of the dressing room and the scant inches between the two of them. Her honeysuckle perfume teased and tantalized his senses and brought back the memories of the library.

Every breath, word and touch.

Lady Felicity was a beautiful woman and as she smiled through the glass of her spectacles a visceral awareness, he had not felt since before his injuries, licked deliciously across his body. He watched enthralled as she sucked on her lower lip and nervously bit down on its plumpness. His intense focus on her drew the prettiest pink blush to the surface of her cheeks and then down the elegant column of her neck. His gaze followed its path as it spread across the enticing curves of her breasts that lay confined within the square cut of her neckline.

“I didn’t follow you that night. To the library. Behind the curtain,” her breathy, husky words rushed out.

“You didn’t?” His eyes slowly traveled back up to her lips. He was so entranced by her alluring femininity that he had yet to fully comprehend her words.

“No, I needed to see the books,”

“The books?” Oliver repeated, as what she saying finally penetrated his entirely inappropriate thoughts of her. Lady Felicity was an innocent and most importantly...Oliver was not the man for her. She deserved a man who was...whole.

“I apologize for placing you in such a tenuous position that night. I had just wanted to see the library. It is renowned,”

Oliver took a deep breath before proceeding to refortify the wall of distance, friendship and decorum between them. “It was rather neatly sorted,” Oliver said teasingly with a forced lightness.

Oliver could see a touch of disappointment and then understanding flare in her gaze. “Yes, alphabetized to perfection,” Felicity replied.

“To perfection….I better get settled in before dinner,”

“Oh, yes, forgive me,” Felicity replied, petting Hanna’s head once more, before standing up. “You be a good girl and I'll check on you in the morning,”

“I'll keep an eye on her for you,” Oliver followed Felicity out of the dressing room and kept the door slightly ajar.

~~~~~~~

Hours later, with the sounds of the pounding surf drifting in from the sea, Oliver untied his snowy white cravat from around his neck and then lifted his dress shirt over his head. Not being able to tolerate someone else’s touch had forced him to learn to live without a valet.

Dressing oneself had actually helped him form the “armor” he needed to face each day. Proper grooming, looking normal, was a huge part of the deception he presented to the world. Little did they know how damaged he still felt.

A movement of white at the corner of his eye made him turn to see on the floor the tail end of his cravat disappearing into the dressing room.

He took one of the candles off the dresser and held it high as he peered into the smaller room. Two brown eyes reflected the candlelight from a comfortable pile of clothing that now included tonight’s cravat. Hanna was indeed nesting and a few choice pieces of Oliver’s wardrobe had been borrowed during dinner.

“Goodnight, Hanna,” Oliver said gently before turning back to finish preparing for bed. He hoped for a dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Felicity watched from her window as the two men, one fair-haired and the other dark, both with military bearing and impeccable ease with their horses, rode away from the manor house. It was early and the world was just waking up. The servants were stirring and the birds chirped their greeting to the new day. 

“My Lady, did you sleep well?” Emma asked as she set Felicity’s day dress and undergarments on the bed.

“I was able to get some rest, Emma,” Felicity took one more sip of chocolate then placed the china cup back on its tray and turned from the window. After an hour of tossing and turning as the day’s events replayed in her mind Felicity had finally settled down. Her heart hurt knowing that Lord Archer was...struggling. 

Bouts of insomnia were not new to Felicity and Emma, as well as others close to their mistress, still worried for her. For Felicity had struggled, too. 

~~~~~~~

Coaxing the stride of the animal and harnessing its power was as second nature to Oliver as breathing. The feeling of freedom that came with riding was one of the few comforts he enjoyed from his life before the war.

Life before the war. Would he ever look at his life as one, again? It was split into before and after. Would the two ever merge? 

William slowed his horse to a walk and they ambled along a cliff side trail. The miles of milky white sheared off rock face was a boundary that reflected generations of Mother Nature’s cycle of time. 

The vast wildness of the seascape reminded Oliver that he was only a second, within minutes, that ticked pass.

“All this...it reminds me of how small we truly are,” Oliver said. 

William met his gaze, with one that mirrored the same understanding, before nodding in agreement and turning to look back across the land. It was an understanding that only one who shared the experiences of war could feel. That the horrors that happened to them and that continued to plague them, long after coming home, could devour and destroy. They could and would consume, till you felt that was all that you were. That you were this...torment.

“Dark storms that roll in from the sea are the hardest for me,” William spoke into the wind and to the man beside him. “Their violence and volatility brings chaos and the unknown to my doorstep...and I no longer feel I have, control...you understand, do you not.”

Oliver swallowed back the emotion that sprang from William’s words. He was not alone in his fear and his decimation. He was not the only one who felt, broken. He was not...the only one. 

Once he found his voice again Oliver said, “I understand.”

William turned then and looked directly into Oliver’s eyes, “But then the sun, returns....it always returns,”

At Oliver’s silence William continued, “Sometimes it returns in the warm touch of its rays and sometimes...it returns in the light of another person’s heart.”

A gentleness came over William’s face and Oliver knew he now spoke of his wife, Katherine. 

Soft lips in the moonlight came to mind and Oliver understood how William could have found happiness. He was happy for him and Katherine, but the joy he saw seemed so far out of reach. How could he nurture love and manage to share his life with another, when he could not even keep himself steady and strong? 

~~~~~~

“Morning, dearest,” Katherine greeted Felicity as she entered the peach and cream decorated breakfast room and sat down across from her sister-in-law and the Countess Archer.

“It is a beautiful morning, Katherine. Countess,”

“Lady Felicity,” the Countess replied as she drizzled a liberal layer of fresh honey over her muffin. A conspiratorial smile spread across her face as she noticed Felicity’s gaze, “You can never have too much honey.” 

“Never,” Felicity heartily agreed, as she reached for the container of honey as one of the servants placed a plate of muffins in front of her.

“Quite,” Katherine chimed in as she daintily licked the remains of the decadent sweetness from the corner her own lips. All the ladies began to giggle and new friendships were forged.

“Lady, Felicity. This was left for you,” one of the maids said quietly as she came to stand by Felicity. 

Felicity picked up the envelope handed to her upon a silver tray and opened the missive. Fluid strokes of ink from Lord Archer’s quill relayed to Felicity that Hanna had a peaceful night and was preparing a place for her babes with much enthusiasm. Felicity couldn’t help smiling as he described the “borrowing” of his clothing. He was a kind man to allow such liberties.

“Pleasant news it would seem,” the Countess gently asked, as both ladies noticed Felicity’s reaction to the note.

“Yes, very pleasant news. Our pregnant dog, Hanna, has found a place to have her pups and it appears that Lord Archer’s dressing room is her choice.”

“I’m so relieved you found her, Felicity. Lord Archer’s suite? Surely he would like us to move her?” Katherine asked, as she bit down on another luscious bit of muffin.

“He’s actually been lovely about the whole thing. He insisted she stay,”

“He would,” the Countess said softly. “He has a good and true heart.” 

Felicity watched as pain and a light sheen of tears formed in the older woman’s’ eyes before they were blinked away and a brave smile returned. 

“Yes, yes he does,” Felicity said gently. She knew Oliver was suffering. Most likely in many of the same ways her brother William did and she knew the toll it took on those who loved them the most. You could not always reach those who suffered, but you could remind them that they were loved. 

People had made sure Felicity had felt loved and she knew without a doubt that the Countess loved her son.

“Countess, you must try our fresh strawberry jam. The plants grow wild across the cliffs.” Katherine went into deliberate detail about the harvesting and wonders of their cook and soon the Countess was drawn into conversation that took the tears completely away.

“If you would like, we could take a carriage ride to my parent’s home. My family’s estate borders Somerset.”

“I would like that,” the Countess replied and the ladies’ day was set.

~~~~~

Felicity took a few moments to check in on Hanna before they set out for Katherine’s family home. The scent of verbena and leather, that Felicity had grown to associate with Lord Archer, lingered in the empty suite. She took a deep breath and enjoyed all the sensations and memories it brought back to her. Virility and masculine beauty would forever be connected to those distinctive scents. 

“Hanna,” she whispered soothingly as she walked into the cool and shadowed dressing room and crouched down to pet the dog. The excited thump of Hanna’s tail greeted her touch. 

“You have made yourself a comfortable nest haven’t you?” Felicity said as she reached out to finger the white cotton shirt and what suspiciously looked like a cravat piled under the warm body of her pet. “Lord Archer will watch over you, sweetness. All will be well.”


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hello my friends, I’ve really enjoyed the special connection and friendship that has grown between Oliver and Felicity in this universe. We are sadly nearing the close of this particular journey with them as next week’s chapter will be the last. Let’s hope Lord Archer will be able to make some life altering choices.

~~~~~~~

The untamable breeze that swept up the hill, carrying with it the taste of salt and dampness, stroked across Oliver’s body as he rested on a picnic blanket with Lady Felicity. William was escorting Katherine and Oliver’s mother through the estate’s gardens after a breakfast that had been full of easy conversation and a surprising enjoyment of honey by all.

Oliver tried not to stare, but his eyes were drawn to Felicity’s delicate profile as she looked out across the infinite body of gray and white tipped curls of ocean that went as far as the horizon. His gaze wandered over the glass spectacles that had become endearingly familiar to him, across her porcelain skin flushed with good health, and then along the curves of her lips that always seemed to be on the verge of a smile. Lips that appeared soft and bitable. He had first hand knowledge of the first, they had been exquisitely soft against his, and when he allowed himself to admit it...he wanted to find out about the second. Multiple times.

The squawking of the sea gulls that circled them from above set off an unexpected reaction. The resulting tilt of Oliver’s world blind-sided him.

_**Draw in, as if inhaling the scent of a blooming flower. Ease out, to relax.** _

As the disorientation started to build he fought to focus on Lady Felicity. Another swirl of wind lifted a few loose tendrils of her hair that struggled to stay in a refined bun under her ribbon tied straw hat. The pale yellow of her dress drew forth the rich, lush green of the grass that surrounded them.

_**Draw in. Ease out.** _

Oliver trained himself to face each day with resilient fight. Compartmentalization and isolation of his thoughts and thus his feelings was a tool he tried to use to deal with what came. The tidal wave of memories, that always hovered around the edges of his mind, was triggered today by the sound of seabirds. This was his life now. What had not bothered him the day before...would and could, lay him bare the next. He was so tired of being weak. So tired of being afraid of the next “episode.”

_**Draw in. Ease out.** _

Oliver’s memories, like William’s dark storms, threatened to swallow him whole. The darkness crept closer till it begun to narrow the view of his surroundings. It squeezed the brightness of the day down to a pinprick of light like a tunnel collapsing inward in slow motion.

_**….The creaking sounds of the boat and the nauseating sway of the rough sea crossing had kept Oliver from sleep and the much needed oblivion it offered as his body, each broken bone, deep wound and laceration, screamed in agony. Every touch and movement wrought excruciating, excruciating pain. A week had passed since his rescue and in a fog of misery and hallucinations...he had been shipped home. Sent home to die or worse...to live...** _

The violent stress that had started to encompass his limbs was beaten back as Lady Felicity turned her head and with those pink lips gave him a dazzling smile....that quickly turned into a look of concern. Her brief smile had cast a beam of sunshine and welcome that flooded his tunnel vision with light and beat the darkness back into a compartment Oliver could lock away...for now.

_**Draw in....Ease out…** _

The warmth of the day and loveliness of the woman in front of him came sharply back into focus, as did Oliver’s awareness. He bowed his head in shame. He felt so awful that she had seen him like this...again.

Long, delicate fingers curled around his shaking ones and Oliver lifted his head in surprise. Felicity did not ask what was wrong with him. She did not say, everything would be all right.

She simply held his hand. She held his hand.

And in her comfort and the amazing touch of her compassion; he found a friendship that would hold fast and walk beside him for the rest of his life.

_**Draw in...** _

Her chest rose and fell in sync with his as if willing him to breath. As the pounding of his heart beat returned to normal his shame melted away. He felt vulnerable and a bit unsteady, but Felicity made him feel, safe. She had seen him at his worst three times and three times she had not judged.

_**Ease out...** _

“William?” Oliver croaked out, already knowing the answer. She nodded, yes, without elaborating. She kept the details of William’s secrets even as she helped Oliver with his own. Felicity would have seen the trauma William carried home from the war. She would have seen first hand her brother’s “episodes.” She would have heard the screams from his nightmares. She understood.

Felicity released his hand after a gentle squeeze and Oliver wished...well, he wished for things he knew he was not ready for. He did not know if he would ever be ready for them.

“My parents loved the sea,” Felicity said, her lips quivering with love and sadness. “They would walk the beaches together and listened to the sounds of the waves as they drifted through the open doors and windows of our home.”

Oliver watched as her thoughts took her back to a time and place where good still outweighed the bad.

“You must miss them a great deal,” Oliver replied as he remembered hearing about the tragic carriage accident that had taken the Viscount and his wife two years earlier. Lady Felicity had lost her parents while William had been at war. She had grieved while taking on the responsibilities of her father’s estate, alone, and safeguarded it not just for her brother, but for the many who lived and worked there.

Her gentle spirit and ability to still smile, laugh and enjoy life was a testament of her strength and ability to heal. Oliver respected her resilience and her grace.

“You know what happened to them?”

“I had heard about the accident. I am sorry for your loss,”

“One day we are enjoying the normal and the next...I did not know what to do. I kept thinking I would see them the next day and the next. And when I did not...,”

Oliver watched as she tried to reign in her emotions.

“How did you...how did you move forward,” Oliver whispered truly wanting to know. How had she?

“Time. It takes time. One morning you wake and the pain is not as overwhelming. Not as suffocating. It doesn't mean you can no longer feel it. It just means you can bear it. I also had Katherine and her family. They wrapped me up in love and when I was ready to...feel it, I did,” Her last sentence brought a tear to her eye and Oliver watched it fall. He wanted to wipe it away and never see this beautiful, strong woman cry ever again.

“Our experiences make us stronger. I genuinely feel that, Lord Archer. I watched my brother take his pain and turn it into an incredible connection to the human spirit. I see him with a heart so much more open and understanding of those around him,”

“Some of our hearts are too scarred. Too fractured. Too weak,” Oliver shared his fear.

“I believe our scars...they don’t reflect, weakness. They reflect our strength. Our hearts still beat. We still live. We just need to…”

“Need to what?”

“We just need to accept that we will never be who we once were...we have to accept who we are now. Scars and all.”

~~~~~~~

The weekend had gone by too quickly. Lord Archer and the Countess were to leave in the morning and Felicity did not know when she would see either of them next. She sat in front of the mirror of her vanity table and finished braiding her hair in preparation for bed. The dark circles under her eyes reflected the emotional day she had had.

Watching Lord Archer struggle with his demons and sharing the loss of her parents with him, which still stunned Felicity, had left her drained. She could not believe she had brought up her parents, but she had felt compelled to. She had needed to connect to him and tether him to her...hope. Otherwise, she worried he would be lost for good.

Lord Archer, William and every soldier who had gone to war lost their innocence. Death was and would forever be a taker. A destroyer. No matter if you were expecting it or not...the loss of family, friend or foe would take a piece of your soul. You just needed to decide to live with what you were left with.

She did not know if she helped Lord Archer, but he had helped her. He helped to remind her that she had chosen to live and love. That she had chosen to be there when her brother came home. To be there to love him when he needed her. To see him flourish and be happy. Felicity had chosen to live and love. She could only hope Lord Archer made the same choice.

Felicity turned at the knock on her door. “My lady, Lord Archer sent me to get you. Hanna is giving birth,” Emma whispered so as not to wake the rest of the family. Felicity could hear the chiming of the clock as it signalled the late hour.

Felicity put on her night wrapper and hurried down the hall towards the candle lit dressing room and the man who sat on its floor with Hanna leaning against his thigh as she licked and cleaned her two little puppies.

Lord Archer looked up at her approach, his loose white night shirt softly gleaming in the candlelight, and upon seeing his radiant lop-sided smile, Felicity fell in love. She knew she had not been far from that realization before this moment, but he was utterly, irridescent in his happiness. This was the other half of the man who walked in the darkness.

She started to cry from the unfairness of his burdens. She wanted him to be happy like this, forever.

“All is well, shhh, Felicity, please don’t cry. Hanna and her babies are perfect,” Oliver drew her down to sit by them. The use of her first name going unnoticed in the moment.

Felicity sniffled and took a deep breath as she watched his smile grow wider as Hanna laid her head on his leg and watched him and her mistress through tired eyes. The puppies blindly found their mother’s nipples and began to suckle on them.

“I wasn’t just crying for them,” Felicity whispered.

With her heart full of love for this man, she recklessly continued on at his confused look, “You are beautiful when you smile,”

Oliver’s body froze at her words and she watched mesmerized as the blue of his eyes darkened with an emotion she could not read. Then he slowly reached over to cup the side of her face. His hand was so warm and strong that Felicity could not help but close her eyes at the pleasure his touch brought her.

His thumb brushed the wetness from her cheek and he whispered with profound incredulity, “Why aren’t you married to a man who adores you? A man who would gift you the moon. You are so special, Lady Felicity. The men of the ton are idiots,”

Because he had not offered himself as that man, Felicity realized, heartbreakingly so that she must feel more for him than he felt for her. At that dawning truth, her chest and her heart ached. She had not felt such loss in a very long time. A loss for a man she had never had to begin with. She was not the right woman for him. She was not, but she had seen the magic of what the right person could do for the one they loved. Katherine had been a woman special enough to bring joy back to William and...one day, Felicity hoped Oliver would find his. And when he did, she prayed he would chose to live and love.

So as not to make him or herself any more uncomfortable she pulled away from his grasp and said with a lightness she did not feel, “He would have to sign my dance card first,”

Hanna thankfully yelped and their attentions were once again on the miracle of Hanna and her puppies.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: There are quite a few flashbacks of dialog and scenes in this final chapter so I have made them italicized and bold.

Thank you all so much for reading my story and caring for and loving my AU Olicity. This version of them was especially poignant to write and are extra special to me.

~~~~~~

Oliver had taken his mother to London knowing she would enjoy the end of the season, to be around friends and society, instead of the isolation of their ancestral home in Devonshire, which is where he was headed next.

Each mile he had traveled away from Somerset, away from Lady Felicity, had been painful and had felt, wrong. He felt it in his gut and his heart. He just hadn’t allowed his mind to feel it. Compartmentalize, that is what he did. He hadn’t allowed his mind to acknowledge that the wrongness had truly begun after he...could not and had not declared his love for Lady Felicity.

She sat before him, in the intimacy of that dressing room surrounded by puppies and a tired Hanna, with love in her eyes. Love for him and he...had let her go. Or at least was trying to let her go. Every hour since his departure he fought the need to go back to her. To beg forgiveness and the right to adore her. But, he would not.

The feel of her skin, under his thumb as he wiped her tears away, haunted him. He touched her and there had been no physical pain, but there had been true, blinding agony as he held back the words he wanted to say. That he had loved her from the first moment he beheld her.

His mother had asked if he would stay in London a few days, not to go to the balls, but to spend time with her. Their two story town home, with a warm Bath-stone facade and whose Grecian ionic columns faced the West side of Hyde Park, had once been a favorite of his. One side of the property offered the hustle and bustle of city life and the other the serenity of a park with sculpted mazes and riding trails. But none of that mattered at the moment. Every day, had been worse than the last. He'd had episodes for most of that time and their length and severity worsened.

_**“Some of our hearts are too scarred. Too fractured. Too weak,”** _

Oliver wasn’t numb enough yet, to attempt to sleep. He took another sip of the amber liquor from the thick, heavy glass in his hand and it burned going down his throat. The fire in his master suite’s hearth cast flickers of gold up along his black trousered legs and disheveled shirt and cravat as he sat slumped to the side in his arm chair.

_**“You are beautiful when you smile,”** _

He shook his head as Lady Felicity’s voice whispered to him from the shadows of his mind. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the chair. He fought to keep her visage and her words locked away, but it wasn’t working.

_**“Why aren’t you married to a man who adores you? A man who would gift you the moon.”** _

He swirled the liquid around and around in the glass as the anger, from thinking of any man other than himself touching, kissing, adoring Lady Felicity, built up and then erupted. He threw the glass against the wall and shards of crystal shattered onto the floor.

Had he ever wanted anything more than to be whole again for her?

_**“We just need to accept that we will never be who we once were...we have to accept who we are now. Scars and all.”** _

And that was the problem was it not? He couldn’t be whole again for someone else. He couldn’t be whole again for his mother. He couldn’t be whole again for Lady Felicity. He needed to be whole again for...himself.

He had tried so hard to make himself who he once was....and that man, that boy, was no longer. Oliver felt a cold wetness on his face. As he wiped it away from his cheeks he realized he was crying. He hadn’t cried once since his return from the war. He hadn’t cried since....

Draw in. Ease out…..

He couldn’t breathe. And he couldn’t stop crying. He never, ever deliberately allowed himself to think of his captivity and his torture. They only seeped through the cracks of the door in which he barricaded them behind. Compartmentalize. Compartmentalize.

Draw in. Draw in. Draw in. He shook all over.

**_“Shhh, it is all right,” a warm hushed feminine whisper, only just barely penetrated his stupor. He tried to surface. To follow its warmth. “Oh, please don’t make a sound,” there it was again. Oliver’s mind followed it. He could not understand the words, but the voice...it was safe. And then his face was cradled within hands that were petal smooth and then a firm softness pressed against his mouth._ **

His mind split in two.

Tethered, anchored and kept safe, only by the memory of Felicity’s words and touch behind that library curtain, he finally...faced his nightmares.

He watched his body break under blow after blow delivered by black hearts, angry hands, and wood and metal weapons. He smelled the foul breath and sweaty bodies of the deliverers of that hatred and that evil. He looked...at the faces of the men who did him harm; who left him to die. He. Looked. At. Them. And he...survived. He lived.

_**“Our hearts still beat. We still live.”** _

~~~~~~

Felicity peeled off her gloves, untied her straw hat and set them all down on the table in the foyer. The day had been beautiful, a never ending expanse of blue and clouds of cotton white puffs, and she had not seen it. She had walked and walked and still, she felt...heavy. She had been sleeping a lot. As if, she could not face being awake. It had been two weeks since Lord Archer and his mother had left and yet, it felt like forever.

Katherine had known something was wrong almost immediately, as she had watched Felicity and Lord Archer, two people who clearly did not wish to part, say goodbye with hypersensitive politeness, but respectful dignity. Felicity did not wish to talk with Katherine and after a few gentle attempts at coaxing, she had been hugged and quietly loved with an unending supply of hot chocolate and treats.

It had been William who had finally broke through Felicity’s depression. He had brought Hanna and her pups to visit her in her bedroom. After setting the new family alongside where Felicity lay resting, William sat down on her bedside. He simply stroked and pet the adorable pups and waited for Felicity to speak.

**_The warm bodies squirmed against her chest and she looked up at her brother and said, “I love him, William.”_ **

**_“I know,” he replied, gently. “No one, who looked upon you two, would think otherwise.”_ **

**_“He left.”_ **

**_William took a deep breath and nodded, “I cannot speak for Archer, but you know how much I fought against my feelings for Katherine.”_ **

**_“Yes, it was difficult to watch when I knew you two belonged together,”_ **

**_“It was difficult to live through. I knew I was hurting her, but...I didn’t think I was worthy of her and Felicity, it took me a long time to heal,”_ **

**_“And you did. I’m so grateful,”_ **

**_With his finger, William tenderly pushed a wayward wisp of Felicity’s hair away from her eyes and said, “Allow Archer to heal. And if his heart is true...it will come for you.”_ **

She had woken the next morning with the same broken pieces of her own heart yearning for his, but now their jagged edges were a little less sharp. As the pieces inched closer together, trying to mend themselves whole again, she hoped and prayed Oliver was all right. Was he taking care of himself? Was there someone to help him when the terrors came?

A package, left on the foyer table, caught her eye.

“That would be for you my Lady, it came by special delivery,” said George the butler, as he stood by the door.

“Thank you, George,” Felicity said as she carried the package into the family room. She set it on the tea table and unraveled the string and parted the heavy layers of cloth that kept its contents safe.

A small envelope rested on a beautifully bound book. She noticed the title, Emma, was engraved on the book’s leather cover. As she opened the note, it contained only two short sentences, but with them came a light blush and a joy she had not felt in weeks.

~~~~~

 _A small token of my gratefulness. May it find a warm and pleasant welcome in your library._  
_Archer_

~~~~~

He thought of her.

Knowing this brought her immense joy and incredible sadness. She had crossed his mind like he crossed hers. Did she walk with him through the day or share a look or a touch...like he did in hers?

It was bittersweet. She delighted in his thoughtfulness and his humor of their moment in the library, but...she wished for more. She wished he was hers.

Sometimes, such wishes, do not come true and she would have to remember that. They may never be more than just friends, but friendship...was another kind of love that should be just as treasured.

Felicity wrote a thank you note, to her friend, and in a few days time received a letter back. In it contained an enquiry as to Hanna and her puppies’ health and thus begun an easy and precious correspondence. Her beloved friend shared his love of many things such as the lakes and countryside of his Devonshire, albeit they were not wild as the ocean of Somerset, but his words spilled the unique images off the parchment and he in return grew to learn more of her. Her favorite books and authors, what flowers reminded her of her mother, her opinions and her thoughts.

Friendship. It was to be ardently cherished.

~~~~~~

London, Autumn 1816

"Sweetness, you forgot your dance card in the parlor," Katherine said, as she came to stand with Felicity at the edge of the dance floor. Katherine’s distant cousin was having her first season in London and Felicity, William and Katherine found themselves there for support. With the arrival of crisp autumn weather came the excitement of new faces and the thrill of finding love. The ton was vibrating with possibilities.

Silk gowns and joyous festive couples flew by in a blur of dancing colors as Felicity sighed and said with light sarcasm, "Thank you, Katherine. I would have missed it dearly,”

Felicity had never felt as if she was missing anything by never being asked to dance, but it now tugged ever so gently at her heartstrings. Now, there was someone she wanted to dance with. Lord Archer. The months that had passed had not dulled the exacting details of his beloved face. She remembered every moment they had had and every word they had shared in their letters. She had read within their sentences his sense of self returning. They had not directly written to each other of his “struggles,” but each post had grown longer and reflected a life that was slowly and carefully beginning to be lived.

“Oh, I do believe you have indeed missed...something,” Katherine replied mischievously as she leaned close and whispered into Felicity’s ear, “Open it,”

With confusion as to what Katherine was up to, Felicity opened her dance card and did not understand at first. Every dance entry was filled...and filled with the same name. The Earl of Archer, Oliver Queen.

“Good evening, Lady Felicity,” came a sinfully delicious voice that caressed her as lovingly and as sensually as the blue eyes she looked up into with surprise.

Felicity could not believe he was there. Her eyes soaked in every inch of him. His black evening wear showcased his body to perfection. He looked so healthy and so alive. Eyes that had once held back so much now beamed with an openness that welcomed her.

“May I have this dance?”

Felicity was so happy to see him. Words could not form quick enough as she placed her hand into his offered one and whispered, “Yes,”

~~~~~~

Everything fell into place as Oliver swept Felicity into a waltz. She was breathtaking in her forest green gown with elegantly embroidered red peonies sparkling through the folds of its skirt as it swirled and brushed against his legs.

His heart healed as he held onto her, turn after graceful turn, and her smile grew broader and wider till she laughed at loud.

He wanted to explain how much her letters had meant to him. How much her support and friendship had been a beacon to him on his darkest days. He wanted to tell her that he heard her voice in his head and it always soothed and eased. He wanted to tell her he still had the terrors, but that he had chosen to live...and to love.

He wanted to tell her how sorry he was to have hurt her. He wanted to tell her so much, but the most important thing he wanted to tell her was…

“I love you,”

He felt her entire body shake from his declaration and in his arms, in the middle of a magical and extraordinary waltz, the woman he loved, said it back.

Felicity’s eyes shimmered with joyous tears as she said, “I love you, too.”

~~~~~~

“My Lord, someone will catch us,” a breathless voice came, from a window seat hidden behind thick curtains in a moonlit library as strong, devilishly dexterous fingers slid under the hem of an evening gown and up along, silky thighs.

“Then we best make this quick,” was teasingly whispered back as insatiably hungry lips placed wet, open mouthed kisses down a graceful swan like neck, till they found the luscious top curves of heavy, full breasts. A tongue peeked out to lick and savor and a long sigh of feminine pleasure echoed off the book filled shelves.

“Oliver, I feel as big as the whales we see off the cliffs of Somerset,” Felicity moaned again, from behind the curtain, as her prominent belly bump nestled against the hard muscled torso of her husband as she sat straddling his lap in the privacy of their home library in Devonshire.

“You are beautiful, desirable and I adore you,” her husband of one year and two months said to his pregnant wife as his hands threaded through her hair, pins flying everywhere as her golden curls cascaded down over his arms and her shoulders. The daring neckline of her gown showed off the bountiful expanse of her satiny skin and it glowed under the worshipping beams of moonlight.

Oliver’s words filled Felicity’s soul with incomparable love as they always did. Her beloved still fought against his darkness, but now...now, on their life’s journey, there was an inner light that shielded him as he held fast, to the hand of his best friend and other half of his heart.

“So very beautiful.” Oliver murmured as he tightened his hold on her hair and pulled her in for a kiss.

She eagerly welcomed the slide of his tongue between her lips. He tasted like the strawberries they had for dessert and love. He always, always tasted like love.

~~~~~~

****The End, but really a happily ever after.****


End file.
